


crazy on you

by SpicefullyYours



Series: wicked eyes and wicked hearts [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/M, Just Sex, Kinda, Multi, POV Third Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28424925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicefullyYours/pseuds/SpicefullyYours
Summary: Isabela liked to ask Hawke what she’d do if she faced a problem with no way out. After all, there’s no way the Champion of Kirkwall could fight her way out of every problem. ‘Twas just stories of a rich mercenary, a glorified errand girl, as Isabela so kindly described.Ever the humorous woman, Hawke declared with absolute certainty that she would simply fuck her way out.She never thought there would come a time when she’d ever have to resort to that strategy and for it to actually work.
Relationships: Fenris (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Fenris/Female Hawke, Fenris/Hawke (Dragon Age), Fenris/Original Female Character(s), Fenris/Reader
Series: wicked eyes and wicked hearts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082015
Kudos: 44





	crazy on you

**Author's Note:**

> this marks the beginning of a work borne of zero editing, 50% thirst, and 50% getting back into writing after nearly a month without practice. read at your own risk! this is just literal porn,,

When push comes to shove, most people would do well to solve the problem. Hawke is not one of those people. When push comes to a literal shove, namely against the reinforced walls of her mansion, the mage does little to defend herself against the aggressor she knows all too well. 

Isabela liked to ask Hawke what she’d do if she faced a problem with no way out. After all, there’s no way the Champion of Kirkwall could fight her way out of every problem. ‘Twas just stories of a rich mercenary, a glorified errand girl, as Isabela so kindly described. Ever the humourous woman, Hawke declared with absolute certainty that she would simply fuck her way out. 

She never thought there would come a time when she’d ever have to resort to that strategy and for it to actually _work._

There is a tiny part of Hawke that wants to know how this started, quashed long ago by the other part of her that doesn’t give a rat’s ass about how or _why_ this encounter even started. Every part of the Champion knows a thing or two about Fenris in the three years she’d known him. 

Fact 1: She is a mage, and not just any mage but an apostate on top of it all. Fact 2: The two of them don’t see eye to eye about damn nearly _everything_ , including Hawke’s identity as a mage. Fact 3: Said elf is currently nested between her thighs on the floor. By the fireplace. In the middle of the living room, where just about anyone can see if they were to enter the mansion, unannounced, at an ungodly time. 

To be caught in such a compromising position would only serve to fuel the rumors that riddled Hightown.The high and mighty Hawke found pantless, straddling her elf lover’s face, and grinding against his sharp nose and moaning for all to hear -- the thought sends shivers down Hawke’s spine. Without a word, Fenris catches on, if the added pressure of his tongue swirling around her clit is anything to go by. 

“ _Fasta vass,_ ” Fenris growls. The vibrations from the sound shoots directly to Hawke’s core and she’s just about ready to come all over his tongue and lick her juices off his lips. _Maker_ , she hopes nobody can ever read her mind when it comes to the elf. 

Before she knows it, the mansion blurs together in a dangerous haze of reds and flames. The pressure on her hips is listed when he crawls up to push her back, legs still atop Fenris' shoulders. It takes every ounce of willpower for Hawke to resist grinding against the bulge underneath his trousers, but the whimper that leaves her lips tells Fenris otherwise.

Hawke had only ever witnessed Fenris' smug expression in two contexts; she often saw it in their nightly card games at the Hanged Man or after a successful insult at Anders’ expense. She never wanted to admit it, never thought she’d ever live out her sinful dreams, but _damn_ if that look didn’t whet her appetite for him. The curve of his lips in a wicked smile, eyes narrowing and glimmering in mischief. She swears she sees a flash of uncertainty, surprise even, when Fenris speaks first. 

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” Fenris hovers at arms-length, sliding his finger along Hawke’s heaving chest. 

“How could I not?” she retorts. Something in Fenris’ eyes changes and despite the raw power within that practically warns her against it, Hawke makes an effort of blatantly taunting the man deliciously situated between her legs. She insists by grinding her wet mound onto his clothed bulge. “We both saw this coming, Fen --” 

“Do you _ever_ stop talking?” 

A hand wraps around Hawke’s throat, but the weight of Fenris’ lips is what actually shuts her up. _Maker, his lips are so soft!_ Hawke’s brain fixates on the sensation, rippling through the rest of her body, crumpled beneath him in the kiss. By the time he pulls away, Hawke doesn’t notice the whine that leaves her lips.

“Always have something to say, don’t you?” 

_Fuck_. 

She could only gulp. In one of the rarest, once in a blue moon moments, Hawke had _nothing_ to say. Not when Fenris closes a hand around one of hers and pushes it down his pants. “W-well, sometimes -- I just --!”

Fenris maintains his stare and Hawke fumbles, not knowing if he was serious in the sudden interrogation. Nerves fill her inside out at the possibility Fenris was seriously expecting an answer. Weighed down by his stare, Hawke wilts by the second for every passing second of silence and every glance at the hand that wraps her fingers around his warm cock. 

“You know, well I’m-- I’m… _uhmf-!_ ” 

Fenris kisses her, harder and filled with only what Hawke could recognise as an intense need to dominate her and switch roles this time. It’s time Fenris takes the reins, and Hawke happily obliges by parting her lips to taste herself on him yet again. She moans into his lips, tangling her fingers into his white hair and tugging. He grunts in response.

“ _Venhedis_ ,” Fenris groans. “ _Festis bei umo canavarum_.”

Fenris’ breaths grow heavier with every pump, every stroke of Hawke’s soft hands. She knows he’s holding back and preens at his failure to do so. When Fenris moans, it’s absolutely glorious for Hawke to discover that not even his broody composure could endure her touch and presence. 

He braces himself on his elbows as he sinks into her grasp and nips at the base of her neck. 

_1, 2, 3, 4, 5 --_

Fenris pulls away after the fifth stroke, ignoring the whine from Hawke’s lips only to smirk at the small _‘o’_ her lips form when he positions the head of his cock at her warmth and nudges the tip in. What a sight it is, to rid Hawke of her usual devilish grin, and another to know he’s the cause. 

Before Hawke can even attempt to _think_ of a witty provocation, Fenris’ raised hips are the only warning she has before he slams himself into her without a second thought. He doesn’t give her time to react, doesn’t wait for her to adjust when continues snapping his hips into hers. He fucks her into the carpeted floors of her mansion, ramming incoherent cries out of her silver tongue and plump lips.

 _Maker and Andraste_ , Fenris’ girth is a sensation to behold. Filling every crevice inside her and hitting the sweet spot deep inside her, it’s damn near blinding, fuelling a fire inside Hawke that she’d always reserved for him whether she wanted to admit it or not. 

It doesn’t matter now if someone stumbles upon their current state. Between the slapping of skin against skin, heavy breaths, and Hawke’s wet pussy _squelching_ with every thrust of Fenris’ thick cock -- nothing can tear Hawke and Fenris apart in this moment. 

They can’t dare keep their hands off each other, not even as they haphazardly make their way to Hawke’s bedroom, the said woman in Fenris’ arms as he attempts to carry her up the steps. Hawke thinks she sees Andraste herself at the sudden change in position. At this angle, gravity is her best friend increasing the pressure within in the most delicious way. From here, it’s all the more easier to feel every ridge, every vein on Fenris’ cock, and most of all, feel the hardness pushing against her moist walls as she’s suspended in the air because of his strong arms. The attempt ends in failure when, at the fifth step, Fenris’ hot breath in Hawke’s ear causes her to clench even harder around his member. 

“Fuck.”

Fenris sets her down against the steps with haste, flipping her onto her stomach so that she kneels on the steps beneath him with her back pressed against his chest. 

He slides his hands down to swipe Hawke’s underwear to the side. Fenris is never one to drag _anything_ out, not when efficiency is better, easier. But in this moment, he is slow to spread her wet lips apart, slow to add pressure, slow to even _move_. It’s feather light, yet just enough to leave Hawke desperate for more. Desperate enough to buck her hips into his.

But Fenris doesn’t let her, his steel grip keeping her hips in place with one hand while he uses the other one to thrust two of his lithe fingers. Every harsh stroke is a strategic tug to the chords in her body, exposing more and more of a woman set to fall apart. 

“Be patient, woman.” Fenris shoves his fingers especially hard at the last word, unmerciful in her pathetic, indecent state. His motions come to an abrupt stop, large fingers no longer filling her hole. His fingers glide up and away, igniting her arousal with flickering fingers on her clit. 

Her toes begin to tingle as the pressure in her core increases exponentially as Fenris assaults the bundle of nerves. At this point, Hawke was all but a bundle of nerves with Fenris setting her nether regions ablaze with his aggressive touches. 

For the fourth time, Fenris curses at how honest Hawke’s body is. It’s like she doesn’t even want to hold back despite everything they’ve been through and argued over. 

And to Fenris, it's a sight to behold to unravel Hawke like this. 

“Maker!” This time it’s Hawke cursing. “I’m _\-- !_ ” 

Fenris quickens his pace, rapidly circling, _pinching_ Hawke’s clit. When her body rocks against his in a desperate plea for him to make her come this instant, Fenris melts into her as he presses his cock against her wet entrance again. He becomes the push to her pull, the inhale to her exhale, letting pleasure wash over the two of them when her moans become pitchy and breathless and soon, the only sound upon her lips is his name being recited like a prayer as she reaches the precipice. 

_Fenris, Fenris, Fenris --_

Hawke wants nothing more than to find her release and Fenris will do the absolute most to make it a reality. Patience is not in Hawke’s nature, especially when she’s high off her own arousal and in need of something more, something _thicker_ inside her. 

Fenris seems to take pity on her and Hawke is nothing but grateful the second stars flood her vision and waves of white, searing pleasure ripples all throughout her body. Hawke cries in ecstasy as she rides out her orgasm on Fenris’ stiff cock. 

The elf waits for nobody, not even Hawke, disregarding her whimpering when he rubs his his cock against her hypersensitive clit and lathering himself in her slick juices. Hawke can only manage more incoherent mewling as soon as Fenris buries himself balls deep in her. 

With a low growl, he braces his head between her head and shoulder. 

That short moment is all Hawke has before he sets a pace that’s harder, faster, and all the more blinding when she hasn’t even finished riding out her orgasm. Her entrance throbs at the overstimulation. 

"Fuck," Fenris mutters, but Hawke still manages to hear it. "I'll never leave you."

He gives her breasts a quick squeeze as he says this, dragging a piece of her clothing down and exposing her bare breast in the process. A hand lingers on the middle of her chest, directly on her heart. Sweet as the moment is, she almost forgets to tease him with a long awaited remark. 

"What was that? I'm not sure I heard you."

His eyes darken at the taunt, and his tone signals a sense of finality when he rises to the challenge.

"Then let me make it clearer for you."

Fenris slides out abruptly only to grab Hawke by her hips, pulling her towards him as hard as he pushes into her and pins her to his cock with each thrust. His pace was rough from the start, but this time it’s clear he doesn’t intend to hold back at all this time. 

"Oh it's clear to me _— oh!_ " 

_Maker_ , Fenris actually _laughs_ not at Hawke, but _with_ her when she squeals at the force of his thrusts. It’s one of the loveliest sounds she’d ever come to hear, so soft and gentle, a huge contrast to the persona he typically presented. 

"You've no idea, Hawke."

Fenris doesn’t let Hawke respond, not when he can’t even continue speaking coherently or consistently in one language. Curses and moans blur together in pinches of Common and Tevene as he thrusts into her like a desperate mad man. She doesn’t mind one bit, not with the way his cock hits her cervix. She’s stretched out quite nicely with his cock buried all the way to the hilt. Her body bounces against his, the skin slapping against skin and heavy breathing being the only audible thing in the room. 

Hawke crumbles under the pressure of Fenris’ relentless pounding, paying no attention to the hand grabbing fistfuls of her hair, wrenching her body backwards with an aggressive arch to her back. She grunts at the mix of pleasure and pain from the action, and it takes everything for Hawke to not come at the focused expression on his face. 

Fenris fucks Hawke like they’re both depraved. And she loves it, especially that _voice_. Not even the Maker could forgive Hawke for her sinful thoughts about Fenris' voice alone.

He doesn't say it, but Fenris knows he'd be the death of her too. 

Fenris grabs her hip with his free hand, pulling her head back by her mouth with the other. He slowly pulls out until just the tip is still inside her. Every part of Hawke that opposes this repeated torture goes largely unnoticed by Fenris. The hand on her mouth snakes down and around her throat again and just as he presses on the sides, he thrusts back in with full force. 

There are no more words to be said between the two of them. Fenris groans in response to Hawke’s mangled cries when he fucks her with reckless abandon, her knees bruising and feet dangling by his sides with every push and pull between their sweaty bodies. Hawke doesn’t care one bit that he's pounding into her hard enough to bruise her legs against the stairs, fingers bruising her neck and hips. 

_Maker above_ , his lyrium markings start to glow and Hawke has no idea where his touches start or end but she’s 100% sure she’s about to see the Maker and Bride themselves real soon. 

With a forceful grunt and an especially harsh thrust, Fenris unravels, pace growing erratic and inconsistent. His hips stutter for a second more and more by the second and it’s only a matter of time before he-- 

Fenris pumps into Hawke one, two, three, more times before his cock twitches and fills her up to the brim with his warm seed. Slowly, his cum spills from her pussy, running down between her thighs like a sinful reminder of what they had just done. 

“Now…” After a few minutes spent tangled in each other’s limbs on the steps, Fenris turns Hawke to face him. “Tell me where my wristband is.” 

“I thought I told you I don’t know where it is!”

**Author's Note:**

> if u reached this, wowza and thank u, and yes, i will take a cold shower and pray the sin away


End file.
